Trick or Treat
by JamesLuver
Summary: Halloween had never been John's favourite time of the year, but perhaps his opinion can be changed...
1. Trick

**A/N:** Happy Birthday, Downtonluvr ! Hope you're having a grand time! :)

When asked if there was anything specific she'd like, Alexis said that she'd like to see either a story where Anna and John get their children ready to trick or treat, or one with Anna loving Halloween and John liking it less, and this changing with the existence of their children. I liked both, so thought I would combine them. Final chapter should hopefully be up on Halloween.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own _Downton Abbey_.

* * *

 _Trick or Treat_

 _1\. Trick_

"John, can you give me a hand with this?"

John sighed dejectedly as he heard his wife's voice floating up from the sitting room. He had sneaked upstairs to escape the madness for five minutes, but it appeared that five minutes of peace was too good to be true.

"Coming!" he called, wincing at how doleful he sounded. Dragging his feet, he made his way downstairs. Anna turned as soon as she heard him in the doorway, beaming.

"Be a darling and hook this up for me," she said. "I'm too small to reach."

For the first time John damned himself for being so tall. He took the misshapen witch from his wife's hands and tacked it over the fireplace. The rest of the room was a veritable grotto for all things spooky; carved pumpkins stood guard in the window like the soldiers around Buckingham Palace, a skeleton hung from the back of the door, bats swung from the lampshades, and Anna's own live black cat, Sooty, had stolen his armchair. She'd told him early in their relationship that she'd rescued him from the local animal charity centre simply because he'd reminded her of one of the symbols of her favourite holiday of the year (although, by her own admission, a romantic Valentine's Day had now superseded the holiday of sweets).

"I don't see why we had to do this," John sighed as he watched Anna flit around with a pot of fake blood. She smeared it down the stark white paint of the door. "And that's going to be a bugger to get off."

"Well, Mary can't do it this year with little George being so young," replied Anna. "They've got a babysitter for the night so I said I'd throw it this year."

"And here was me looking forward to a quiet night in."

"You're just an old grump. If we had it your way we wouldn't even open the door and hand out sweets."

"I used to do it," John protested. "Until I ran out one night and one little shit decided that egging my window was the best way to go."

Anna snorted, moving to wrap her arms around her. "Poor baby."

"You don't sound very sympathetic."

"Well, if you looked as grumpy as you do now I'm not sure that you didn't deserve it. You don't need to be such a Scrooge about it."

"Scrooge is Christmas," he reminded her. "Besides, grumpy or not, no one should throw eggs at someone else's property unless they're prepared to answer for it."

"You really are a barrel of fun this evening," said Anna, untangling herself so she could move to peer out of the window when a car door slammed. "It doesn't look like anyone has arrived yet, thank God. Will you keep an eye out just in case someone arrives early while I pop upstairs? And I'd better uncork the wine, let it breathe for a while."

"If someone spills red wine all over the floor again like they did at your birthday then you're cleaning it up this year," John grumbled, remembering the hour he had spent scrubbing at the stubborn stain to no avail while Anna supervised from the settee. She only poked her tongue out at him and disappeared.

It wasn't that he didn't _want_ Anna to enjoy herself and let her hair down. He loved to see her happy; it was the reason he breathed. But a party wasn't his idea of a good time. Now, sitting in the darkness watching a gory horror film to commemorate the holiday was more his kind of thing. He wasn't even a particular fan of the genre—he spent most of his time resisting the urge to make scathing remarks about the intelligence of the characters who ended up in those hapless situations—but Anna spent most of her time squealing and hiding her face against his chest, and that was something that he could get on board with.

Still, this was what Anna wanted this year, and she deserved it. She had unfailingly put up with every frustrating barrier that his ex-wife Vera had thrown his way when they had first met each other, and even when he wouldn't have blamed her for walking away from the whole sorry mess, she had stood firm by his side. A better woman had never existed, and he had promised her silently that he would do everything in his power to make her life as wonderful as he could.

Smiling in resignation, he straightened the little witch ornament on the mantelpiece over the fire. At the sound, Sooty raised his head, blinking enquiringly.

"What can I say?" he told the cat. "I'm a fool in love."

* * *

"Okay, I'll take over from that for a while."

John turned at the sound of Anna's voice to find her standing in the doorway, arms folded across her chest. He let the breath whistle from between his teeth as his eyes widened.

"Bloody _hell_ ," he rasped.

Anna raised an eyebrow at him, pushing off from the doorframe. "Oh, you like this?"

"Like it? I _love_ it. You look incredible."

His eyes roved over her as she came to a stop by his side. It was true. Anna had donned a skin tight cat suit for the event. It was working wonders, showing off every dainty curve and dip. He was particularly drawn to the way that it accentuated her bottom—Anna's was truly lovely, and just seeing it like this was having an effect on him. He tried to clear his throat but he couldn't look away. Anna solved the problem for him, stepping neatly into the circle of his arms and tipping her head back so that she could see his face. She'd blacked her nose and drawn whiskers across her cheeks. Cute little ears sat on a band atop her head. Her long blonde hair tumbled down her back.

"Are you sure we have to have guests over tonight?" John asked, this time for a completely different reason.

"Yes. It's far too late to change our plans now. Now go on, get upstairs. You need to get changed as well."

"Please tell me you're joking."

"Of course I'm not. It's a fancy dress party. We can't have you being the only person not taking part."

"I don't have a costume."

"Yes, you do. I knew you'd object, so I went and picked you one out myself."

John stared, utterly gobsmacked. He wasn't sure if he should feel more irritated or amused that she had gone behind his back and arranged the whole thing so masterfully.

"Don't worry, it's a nice one. You'll like it."

"What is there to like?" he muttered. "I'm going to look a fool in front of everyone."

"I don't think anyone is going to look as big a fool as Robert is, from what Cora has told me."

The thought did little to bring him comfort, but there was little he could do. He was well and truly beaten.

"Where is the costume?" he said moodily.

"In the spare bedroom. And cheer up. It's not the end of the world."

"Isn't it?" he countered sardonically.

"Oh, come here. It's only for a few hours." Anna squeezed him, tucking herself under his chin. "Now, you've got about half an hour before they start arriving. Give me a kiss, and try to smile. You're so handsome when you do."

"Hardly a consolation," he sighed. He let her kiss him briefly, before pulling away. She smirked at him.

"You're cute when you pout, too," she said. "Now go on, get."

With an exaggerated sigh he left the room, traipsing upstairs to see what monstrosity was before him.

"Oh, bloody hell," he said aloud.

Anna had hung the costume up on the wardrobe door for him. It was completely black, a high collar the colour of blood the only distinguishing feature. The cape hung limply beside it. Dismayed, John limped back onto the landing.

"You can't be serious!" he called down the stairs.

"Of course I am! What's so bad about Count Dracula? He's Halloween-y."

"I'm not wearing fake nails or sprouting hair from my palms."

Anna wrinkled her nose. "There's nothing sexy about that. I was thinking more along the film lines rather than the book. Believe me, there isn't a woman alive who would have rejected Gary Oldman's Count. I sneaked into the cinema five times to see it with my brother. He thought I just liked the story, but that had nothing to do with it."

"Oh great, now you want me to roleplay some weird secret fetish?"

"I'm sure you can pull it off. Now hurry up, they'll be here soon!"

Scowling even though she couldn't see his displeasure, he stomped back into his room and pulled off his clothes. The outfit was far from appealing but he had no other choice, so he pulled the silken material up over his body. At least it didn't cling: the last thing he wanted was for everyone to see his middle-aged softness. He knew that even five years on people wondered just what Anna was doing with someone like him when she could do so much better for herself, and he didn't want to do anything that would fuel those whispers. Robert would call him paranoid, and maybe he was, but the less than warm welcome he had initially received from Anna's family had rather dampened his sense of worth. Tying the cape with a resigned knot, he scrutinised himself in the mirror. The cape didn't look bad, but he wasn't sure about the rest of it. Still, there was nothing he could do now.

Traipsing back downstairs, he paused in the doorway to find Anna with Sooty in her arms, scratching him behind his ears as she cooed. When she looked up and saw him, a grin spread across her face.

"What's wrong with that?" she said. "You look very handsome."

"I feel very silly."

"No, believe me, the ladies are going to love you tonight. You've got the Dracula charisma."

"I think that's the oddest compliment I've ever received," he said, moving into the room. Anna met him more than halfway, leaning up to kiss him. Sooty gave a discontented mewl in her arms, and John winced as the flailing front paw extended its claws and dug them into his chest.

"Sooty," Anna said reprovingly, unhooking the claw from where it had caught on the material of his costume. "That's naughty."

The cat gave her a look that clearly let her know that he didn't care, and she rubbed her nose against his ear for a moment before John ended up with an armful of fur.

"Can you take him upstairs?" she asked. "I don't want him to feel frightened when all of these people descend on us. I've already taken up his food bowls and litter tray. Shut him in our room, he can sleep on the bed for a few hours."

"Your wish is my command," John sighed. "Come on, mate, let's get you settled."

After making sure that everything was in order, John shut the door behind the cat and returned downstairs. Anna was no longer in the living room, and he found her in the kitchen, making last minute adjustments to the party food. She had a glass of water by her side, which she took large gulps from at intervals.

"Can I give you a hand?" he asked, conscious that he was staring at her beautiful pert bottom as she leaned over the kitchen counter. The words sounded a tad lecherous once spoken, and he rushed to add, "With the food. I meant with the food."

She giggled, giving him a look over her shoulder. "I know you did. Pour some wine, that'll be a help. That's the first thing people will want, never mind the fact that I've gone to all this trouble."

"Then I'll make sure that I glower at them until they take something. I can look quite fearsome when I want."

"You might scare them _away_ from the food," Anna said, leaning back when he paced up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, bending his head to nuzzle against the side of her neck. He breathed in the scent of her skin, the scent of his favourite perfume wafting seductively into his sinuses.

"More for me and you," he murmured. "We'll need our energy, won't we?"

"Don't push your luck, Mr. Bates. Although, actually, there is something I need to talk to you about."

"Sounds ominous. All right, fire away."

Taking a deep breath, Anna opened her mouth to speak—

The doorbell rang, cutting through the moment with a shrill wail. Anna exhaled in a huff, folding her arms across her chest.

"Never mind," she said.

"You sure? We can leave them out there for a few moments, it won't matter."

"No, I won't have any of the guests complaining that they caught colds from standing outside for too long. Let them in. It'll keep."

"If you're sure." John dropped one last brief kiss onto his wife's mouth before stepping away from her and heading in the direction of the front door. He could see the silhouette of several people from the glow of the outside light, and he heaved a sigh.

It promised to be a long night.

* * *

Someone had set the CD player going, and some poppy disco music pounded from the speakers. It cut a stark contrast to the people squeezed in the front room, from Frankenstein's monster to Tom Branson, who had quite literally thrown a white sheet over his head and declared himself a ghost. At intervals the doorbell could be heard, ringing shrilly throughout the house, and the nearest person to the door would shower the trick-or-treating children with sweets and chocolate.

John stayed on the fringes of the room, clutching his glass of coke as he watched Anna mingling with their guests, mostly work colleagues from her school, doing his best to evade door duty. It wasn't that he was unsocial, as he knew many people believed him to be, it was simply that he preferred to interact with people on a smaller scale, over the comfort of a quiet table rather than being squashed like sardines into a room while wearing garb that made him feel ridiculous.

Anna, however, was in her element. She was clustered in the middle of the room with the Crawley sisters and Cora. All of them were cooing over something, and he had never seen Anna grin more brightly than she currently was. Mary swooped in and wrapped her arms around her. John had to supress a smirk despite himself. There was something oddly amusing about seeing a murdered bride embrace a woman dressed like a cat.

"This is a decent party, Bates. Which is how I know that it wasn't planned by you."

Robert's voice broke through his thoughts, and he turned to find his best friend standing beside him, clutching a beer in one hand and a handful of cheese puffs in the other.

"Cheers, mate," John said sarcastically. "I knew I could rely on your support."

Robert patted him on the shoulder, leaving traces of cheesy corn on his costume, as if it wasn't already bad enough. "You're welcome. I'm appreciating the outfit, by the way. Really retro."

"Anna reckons it's sexy."

"Well, each to their own."

"And yours is any better?"

"Orange is my colour," Robert said lightly, patting the huge padded pumpkin that he was crammed into.

"I suppose it's better than that monstrosity you wore last year."

"Cora found it sexy."

"So we've both got wives with questionable fantasies."

"You won't catch me complaining. Speaking of which, I bet there are some very filthy thoughts running through your head right now, Bates, you old dog. Anna is looking absolutely ravishing."

"And she is also absolutely off-limits. And you're absolutely married."

"And I wouldn't change Cora for anything in the world. But there's nothing wrong with a bit of window shopping."

"And what would Cora have to say about that?"

"Oi, keep your smart replies to yourself," said Robert, prodding him in the shoulder. "Now come on, show me where the beer is. I've finished this one off."

"Your guess is as good as mine. But I'll help you look."

The two men slipped into the kitchen. John went over to the fridge, peering in. Two lone bottles lay nestled amongst the salad.

"Bingo," he said. "Here, mate. Take them before someone else does."

"It'd be Tom Branson. He's been drinking like a fish all evening. What Sybil sees in him I'll never understand..."

Privately, John liked Tom Branson. He was a bit hot-headed at times, but he was passionate about what he did, and loyal and kind. And he was Irish. John had a soft spot for his Irish heritage, and in many ways Tom reminded him of himself in his youth. Sybil Crawley could do much worse.

"I personally think Mary's outdone herself tonight," John commented.

Robert wrinkled his nose. "Don't ask. Apparently she wanted to re-enact her wedding in a more ghastly fashion."

"I think she would have cancelled the wedding if she'd had to turn up to it like that," said John, thinking about the ripped dress and the fake blood smeared over the normally perfectly coiffed young woman.

"You know Mary, she likes to make a statement."

Well, he couldn't argue there. Just remembering the extravagance of Mary's wedding made him shudder. It had simply put his and Anna's quiet affair to shame, though his wife had firmly reassured him that their wedding had been absolutely perfect, and that the most important thing to her was that they had emerged from the registry office with the same surname.

As if she knew that he was thinking about her, Anna appeared in the doorway, clutching at an empty glass.

"There you are," she said brightly. "I thought you were skulking upstairs with Sooty."

Robert excused himself with a twinkle in his eyes, leaving husband and wife alone. Anna crossed the kitchen to his side, turning on the tap and letting it run for a few seconds before holding her glass under the steady flow. John raised his eyebrow.

"Just water?" he said. Usually Anna loved a drink when she went out, though she rarely had more than a few.

"Mary's drinking enough for the both of us," Anna giggled. "Matthew will have to carry her home at this rate."

"I hope you don't feel that you have to hold back on my behalf."

"No, no, it's not that," she reassured him, waving the words away with her hand. "I just think that I should remain sober as the host, make sure that everything is ticking along smoothly."

"I can do that," he said, then grimaced at her humorous look. "What, don't you think I possess the faculties to stay civil?"

"Of course I do," she cooed, before taking a gulp of water. Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "I'm just not sure if there's anyone alive who has the patience to deal with Mary when she's completely out of her head. Even Matthew's patience is tested, and he's like a saint with her most of the time."

"I am a patient man, Mrs. Bates," John huffed, folding his arms.

"They do say that patience is its own reward."

"I like the sound of that."

"We'll see." Anna finished off her glass and then filled it again, leaving it on the side as she turned towards him. "Now come here. I'll give you one kiss to take back into the living room and that's your lot."

"I think it's a fair price," John murmured, stepping closer. She sighed when he slipped his arms around her, snugging her body close to his. Her hands settled on his broad shoulders, and she encouraged him to stoop with a gentle tug, rising up on her tip toes to even the height discrepancy between them. He melted into her touch when their mouths met, deepening almost immediately, shivers tickling his back when her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Anna? Anna, where are—oh, there you are."

At the sound of Matthew Crawley's voice, they broke apart.

"I didn't realise I was interrupting something," the young man said sheepishly.

"Not at all," said Anna smoothly, patting down her hair. "What is it?"

"Nothing…only, you'd better come. Mary's trying to convince everyone that there's a ghost in the house that needs to be found. I think it's your cat making a terrific racket, but she believes that there's some poor lost spirit crying out to be released. Tom's egging her on. Come quick."

With that, Matthew turned on his heel and hurried back the way he had come. John blinked.

"Bloody hell," he said. "You're right, I don't have that kind of patience."

"Rule number one of marriage, Mr. Bates," Anna replied as she walked away. "The woman is always right."

* * *

Five minutes later, Anna sent him up to check on Sooty. Mary's drunken insistence that there was something else in the house with them was becoming harder and harder to control, to the point where she was loudly demanding that they make a Ouija board to contact with the roaming spirit. While under normal circumstance the notion would make him snort with laughter, John had to admit that on Halloween Night, there was something eerie about it. It was better to stop Mary in her tracks while they still could.

When he opened the door, Sooty chirped loudly, immediately winding himself around his legs. It had taken the cat a long time to begin to trust him, unbalanced by no longer being the only man in his owner's life, but over time they had developed a mutual bond of respect. John had won him over with cat treats and toys, and now the cat didn't claw John's leg every time he tried making advances on Anna.

"All right, mate, what's wrong?" said John, bending to heft the cat into his arms. "You're not doing us any favours downstairs. There might be an exorcism at the end of the night if we're not careful."

Sooty blinked slowly.

"You might not care yet, but just you wait. Mary won't take kindly to you helping her make a fool out of herself."

Satisfied that Sooty was quiet now, John laid him gently on the bed under one of Anna's old blankets. There was plenty of food and water, and the tray was still empty. Likely he was just bored with staring at the same four walls.

"It won't be for much longer," John promised.

Anna's tinkling giggle turned his attention to the doorway.

"You are so cute with him," she cooed.

"Hardly," he huffed.

"Don't try and downplay it. You love him really. Besides, women like men who are compassionate with animals. Tugs right at their heartstrings."

"Ah, so I finally know what I did to steal your heart. I bought your cat a tin of food."

"Silly beggar, I fancied you long before that." Her smile turned teasing. "That was just when I knew you were the proverbial 'one'."

John shook his head, unable to stop his wry grin. Anna came and sat next to him on the bed, reaching out idly to pet Sooty behind the ears. He purred and rolled onto his back, offering his tummy. Anna stroked it for several seconds, as though she was weighing something up. John waited for her to speak.

"I'm sorry if you feel like I've forced you into this," she said at last. "I know you're not keen on the whole party scene, and with Mary's behaviour I can rather see why you'd prefer to avoid it. I hope you're not having a completely terrible time."

"How could I have a terrible time when I'm with you?" he countered.

"John…"

"I am a little out of my comfort zone," he admitted. "But I love seeing you having fun far more. You deserve to let your hair down. And I'm sorry if I've made you enjoy it less than you should."

"You could never make me feel that way. I promise."

"Good." John smiled, squeezing her tight within the circle of his arms. "Now, why don't we go back downstairs? I think I could stretch to one dance with my wife before the night is through."

Anna's beaming face was the best consolation in the world.

* * *

The party ended just after half ten, Anna and John mindful of the other people on their street who would be getting up for work early the following morning. They stood at the door and bade each guest goodbye as they filed out, some looking worse than others. Cora rolled her eyes as Robert merrily clapped John on the shoulder and told him that he hoped that Anna didn't have any horrifying surprises in store for him when the lights went out, and Matthew was practically carrying Mary with Sybil's help.

"Peace at last," John uttered jokingly as he shut the door on the final guest.

"Now the real fun begins," said Anna. "Tidying up this mess."

He groaned. "Can't we leave that until tomorrow?"

"No, we certainly cannot. I know you, you won't be in the mood to face it then, and I simply can't have a messy home. It's late; that'll give us an incentive to get it done as quickly as possible."

"I was hoping that we might head upstairs…"

"Mr. Bates," she said, fixing him with a reproving look, "get your mind out of the gutter. I am not going anywhere until this place is spotless."

"Yes, ma'am," he sighed.

"Good. Now, I'll fetch some bin liners. Start gathering the paper plates together."

They worked side by side for more than half an hour, tipping the remaining food into one bag and the empty paper plates into another for the recycling facility. Thankfully there had been no wine spillages this time, and soon the place was spick and span.

John wiped his forehead. Underneath his outfit, he was sweating. He longed to peel off the layers, feel the blessedly cool October air against his skin.

Evidently sensing his thoughts, Anna said, "Why don't you head on up? There's not much left to do. I won't be far behind you now."

"Are you sure?" he questioned. "I don't mind."

"No, honestly, you go. I'll be up in a jiffy."

"I love you, you know," he told her, moving closer so that he could tug her into his arms. He dipped his head and pressed a kiss to her smiling mouth.

"Hmm, I know," she said cheerfully when he pulled away. "Now go, before I change my mind."

"Don't be long," he murmured into her neck. "I'll be waiting."

"Mr. Bates, get." Anna's voice was stern, but there was no hiding the smile in her tone. He thought he'd better not push his luck too much—a delay in getting to the bedroom was not something that he wanted to provoke—and gracefully bowed out of the room.

Sooty scarpered the moment that the door was opened, and he took a moment to return the bowls to their rightful place in the kitchen. Anna was busy stacking dirty cutlery on the side. She beamed at him, and shooed him out of the room again like a mother hen with her chicks. He took a trip to the bathroom to wash his hands, then returned to the bedroom to begin peeling off the godawful costume.

He'd barely begun before Anna's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"John," she called from somewhere below him, "if the doorbell rings will you be a sweetheart and open it for me? I just thought I'd do some of this washing up."

"What parents would still allow their kids to be out at this time of night trick or treating?" John grumbled.

"Darling, it's nearly over. Then you won't have to worry about it for another whole year."

"All right, have it your way. I'll answer the door if I have to. As long as there are some sweets left. I'm _not_ ducking an egg thrown at my head again."

Anna laughed. "Yes, there are some sweets left. I'll make it up to you somehow."

"That thing that I like?" he asked hopefully.

"If you play your cards right."

 _That_ left him feeling happier. Humming to himself, he resumed the peeling off of the tight costume. It was a relief to be out of it. Running a hand through his hair, he pulled on his pyjama bottoms but left his shirt off for the moment, relishing the cool air on his skin after the heat of the costume and the oppression of the party. He was just contemplating sneaking back downstairs and pulling Anna away from her insane obsession with tidying up the remnants of the party _right now_ when the doorbell rang.

He froze in place. Bloody _hell_. Was God that cruel? Only street corner teenagers who were far too old to be begging for sweets would be out at this time terrorising the local community. He considered pretending that he'd been in the bathroom and hadn't heard it, but no doubt Anna would be irritated if he made her go out when she was in the middle of something. And then he definitely wouldn't get to experience that thing that he liked. He loitered for a couple of moments, but inevitably the thought of a naked Anna tipped the scales. Ignoring the twinge of hopeful arousal, he pulled a shirt over his head and took the stairs two at a time. The sooner this was over, the better.

"I've got it!" he called, before Anna could grouse about how long he was taking. Fumbling for the keys, he unlocked the door and grabbed for the bowl of assorted goodies. He took one more deep breath to brace himself against what was to come and pulled open the door.

"Trick or treat!"

The bowl slipped from his fingers in surprise. Sweets and chocolate exploded in every direction, and the bowl rolled sadly to a stop by the hall's wall.

"Anna!" John said, at a loss. "What are you doing!?"

His wife remained unfazed, and leaned against the door frame, her hip jutted in that sexy little way of hers. Her blue eyes were as smoky as her voice as she repeated, "Trick or treat?"

"I don't understand what's going on." John stumbled over his words, trying desperately to process the happenings of the last few moments.

"It's a good job I'm not with you for your brains then, isn't it?" she said with a roll of her eyes. She'd taken the time to remove the whiskers and blacked nose. "It's a simple question. Do you want a trick or a treat?"

John ran his eyes along her body, barely able to take his eyes off the form-fitting cat suit that had been driving him mad all evening. He had been fantasising about running his palm against the swell of her breast, watching her nipple pebble beneath the thin material. He wanted nothing more than to peel that costume off her, to reveal her flushed, naked skin underneath.

Swallowing hard, he said hoarsely. "Treat. Christ, treat."

She smirked devilishly. "Good choice, Mr. Bates."

And she kissed him right there on the doorstep, winding her arms around his shoulders and pressing her body flush to him. He stumbled and caught himself against the doorframe, grasping her hips and angling her towards him. He knew she'd be able to feel him stirring beneath his pyjama bottoms, and he groaned into her mouth as her tongue slipped out to tease at his bottom lip. If nosy old Mrs. Sullivan looked out of her window now she was likely to have a heart attack. The thought of the neighbours knowing just what a passionate, heated relationship they had only served to turn him on more; his hands slid lower to cup her peachy arse cheeks as he ravished her mouth with his. She made a sound in the back of her throat and pulled away from him, breathless and grinning.

"Enough of that on the doorstep, Mr. Bates," she said. "I'd rather not have Mr. Chirk see me naked on the front garden."

"He'd appreciate the view," John growled, moving to kiss her again. She braced her hands against his chest.

" _I_ wouldn't appreciate it. Come on, inside. You chose treat, and that's exactly what you're going to get."

"I do like the sound of that," he admitted. He hooked his hands around her waist.

She squealed aloud when he swept her up into his arms and carried her over the threshold.

* * *

"That was amazing," John mumbled into her sweaty shoulder several minutes after they'd reached the pinnacle. Anna made a contented sound halfway between a sigh and a laugh, snuggling back against him as he enveloped her in the circle of his arms. He spent his time kissing her shoulder and neck, breathing in the musk of sweat and perfume on her skin. This was perfection. This was all he'd ever wanted in life, to have his wife in his arms, feel her silky, bare skin brushing against his own. He was truly blessed to have found her, and even more blessed to know that she loved him as fiercely as he loved her.

"It was," she agreed.

"Made Halloween worth it."

"Then I'm glad that there's something that can make it worthwhile in your eyes."

"That could make anything seem worthwhile in my eyes," John murmured thickly, closing his eyes as he buried against her more firmly.

He could hear the smile in her voice as she ran her fingers along his forearm. "If I'm honest, I was trying to test you tonight."

"What?" At her words, John found that he suddenly wasn't quite as interested in the post-coital doze that he had been planning. Pushing himself up on his forearm and peering over her so that he could see her face in profile he prompted, "What do you mean?"

She giggled, rolling onto her back so that she could see him properly. "A test. I thought you might have noticed."

"Noticed what?"

"The outfit."

"I did notice the outfit," he growled at her. "Or didn't you notice the way that I was looking at you?"

"Oh, I noticed," she said, raising her eyebrow.

"Well then, what are you getting at?"

"Well…" Anna picked up his hand, running her fingers over his before linking them together. John snugged her closer, her hip touching his belly. "I wore that for a reason. I was hoping that you'd realise before everyone else turned up.

"Realise what!?"

"The Crawley girls knew at once."

"Knew what!?"

"I mean, I suppose you shouldn't feel too badly…Robert didn't notice a thing…"

"I suspect that had more to do with the outfit," John groused. "I saw him copping a look at you when he thought no one else was watching him."

"So he was taking notice of my other assets instead?" said Anna, tongue firmly in cheek.

"I'm certainly not chuffed about it. Robert's a married man, he shouldn't be ogling your arse and breasts, no matter how fantastic they looked in that cat suit."

"Don't worry, I'm a happily married woman. In fact, this is what this is all about."

John cocked an eyebrow. "I'm afraid I'm still not following any of this."

Sighing, Anna pressed her lips to his cheek before sitting up. The quilt fell away from her, and he took a moment to admire the curve of her back, the way that her hair fell in a blonde shower down her spine. Then he pushed himself up on his elbows too, moving to sit beside her. She grabbed at his hand and twined their fingers together once more. He relished the press of her warm skin.

And, at last, she spoke, the words arrowing straight to the middle of his heart.

"I'm pregnant, John. We're going to have a baby."

It took several seconds for the words to register, but when they did he started to laugh in disbelief.

"Oh, my darling," he said. "Please tell me you're serious, and this isn't some Halloween trick."

"It's a treat, Mr. Bates. I found out the other day when I went for my check-up. I'm almost three months gone. I thought you might have noticed with the skin tight suit, but obviously you were more distracted by other things."

"I feel terrible for that now," he murmured, and it was true; how could he have been leering at his wife when she was glowing for the purest reason on earth?

Anna giggled, a beautiful tuneful sound. "I'm not going to get offended that you find me irresistibly attractive. I think you'd better make the most of it while you can. Soon I'll be as big as a house."

"And more beautiful than ever," he promised her, before moving his hand to her stomach. Now that he was properly looking at her, he could detect the slight swell beneath the covers, where she had been flat before. A baby. Their first baby. It was almost beyond comprehension. They hadn't been actively trying for a baby, but nor had they been preventing it from happening in the past year, deciding that it was time for their family to be extended. And they had finally managed it.

"I love you," said Anna, leaning her cheek against his shoulder as she brought her hand up to rest against hers on her stomach.

"I love you too," he murmured. "And I love this little one."

Smiling, she leaned in to kiss him, and he eased them back until they were lying on the mattress again, still wrapped in each other's arms. When they broke apart, Anna tucked her head under his chin, and he pressed her closer with a hand to the small of her back, breathing in the scent of her hair as the strains of the evening melted away.

Perhaps Halloween wasn't so bad after all.


	2. Treat

**A/N:** Second part of Downtonluvr's birthday fic. Happy Halloween! I have been seriously pressed for time over the last three weeks with one thing and another, so if there are any mistakes or discrepancies then I apologise, and will try to rectify soon. Also, lots of kids, but if Anna and John can't have children all around them in canon, they're sure as hell getting them in modern AU.

* * *

 _2\. Treat_

"Daddy, we need help!"

At the sound of his eldest son's shout, John tore his gaze away from his breastfeeding wife. Even now, so many years later, the sight still took his breath away. Anna was simply beautiful when she connected with her children in the purest way possible, and this time, with what would most likely be their final child, she was more perfect than ever.

"Daddy!"

"Duty calls," Anna teased.

"It's like assembling an army in there."

"Well, you were the one who made them."

"I didn't do it alone."

"You were eager for a large family too," she said, glancing back down at their youngest. At six months old, Anna would begin to wean her soon. It was sad to think that in a few months, this sight would be no more. Still, John couldn't help but smirk. He couldn't help it; remembering Mary's face when they had announced that they were having yet another child simply had that effect. She and Matthew had had a modest two children, Isobel following George five years later. By that time, Anna and John had had their third, and number four wasn't far behind.

"Daddy!" Now his eldest sounded truly impatient. Likely they would have a tantrum on their hands if he didn't bend to his will.

"I'm coming!" he called quickly, and Anna prodded him.

"Shh," she hissed, nodding pointedly at the bundle in her arms. "Lily's dropping off. Don't wake her up again. If she sleeps most of the night then Mrs. Hughes will have an easier time of it."

"Sorry, love," said John, dropping a quick kiss against her temple as he pushed himself off the bed. "You're right, of course."

When Mrs. Hughes had retired from the school that Anna worked at, she had moved into one of the renovated bungalows that sat a couple of streets over. She had been a staple part of their life since then, babysitting the kids so that they could have a few evenings to themselves in an otherwise hectic life—not that either of them would ever change anything about the way they lived. She had offered to take Lily tonight so that Anna could go along with the rest of the family as they went out trick-or-treating for the very first time. John was glad of it; Anna had been almost more excited than the kids at the prospect of them fully experiencing Halloween for the first time.

" _Daddy!"_

John knew better than to linger any longer at the impatient bite in his son's voice. Pressing one last quick kiss to Anna's mouth, he limped out of the room in the direction of his son's.

The sight that met his eyes was something that took his breath away each and every time.

Seven year old Oliver stood in front of the mirror, one arm and leg in his little vampire costume, the too-large cape twisted around his body. Twins Liam and Jack seemed to have lost interest in getting dressed, and were currently sitting on the floor stroking Sooty, who was more of a Smoky nowadays with his greying fur. The cat was patiently putting up with their probing hands, though John could tell from his twitching tail that he was growing tired of being tugged at. Ella, the precious little girl they'd hoped for after three beautiful, rambunctious boys, before Lily had surprised them with her presence three years later, was in her costume too, but didn't quite look like the regal princess that she had insisted on dressing up as, with the dress hanging sadly off one shoulder. It was a scene of perfect chaos.

"All right, what's wrong?" he said when he'd found his voice. Four pairs of eyes swivelled to look at him; three sets of hazel, one set of blue.

"I can't do my costume properly," Olly declared grudgingly. Only last week he had fought his mother, insisting that he was a big boy and did not need help getting dressed in the morning when she had wanted to do his hair for him. This admission was clearly a sore point.

Adopting his best serious face, John crouched down beside his eldest, trying not to wince as his knee creaked. "And what seems to be the problem, mate?"

"All this material is confusing," Olly complained. "I can't tell where I'm supposed to put my arms or legs or even my head!"

"That is pretty confusing," John agreed. "Shall I see if I can help? Let me just rescue Sooty first."

He scooped the cat up, much to the twins' indignation, and released him on the landing. He skulked away. At one time he would have run for the hills, but the poor fella was almost fourteen, and the best of his agile days were behind him. When he returned to the bedroom, Ella pounced on his legs.

"Me a pwincess!" she squealed.

"The prettiest of all," John told her, reaching down to scoop her up, ignoring the slight spasm in his knee. He brought her closer so that he could kiss her cheek, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, sighing contentedly. She'd pleaded with them to buy her the dress of her favourite Disney princess, the one who made a castle of ice in the middle of a barren landscape. He had sat through the film too many times for his liking. In fact, he had even caught himself humming the lyrics to one of the songs while he showered the other morning. Anna had teased him endlessly about it.

"Daddy," Oliver said, disgruntled. He'd folded his arms across his chest, glowering in a perfect imitation of Anna.

John knew that his eldest sometimes found it difficult to live with so many younger siblings. He was the model older brother, helping out as much as he could, but with two five year olds, a three year old, and now a six month old baby, John was aware that he might begin to feel lost in the crowd, something that was imperative to stop. He and Anna always made sure that they reserved Saturday mornings for him, dropping the other kids off at her parents' and letting Olly choose the activity of the day. Sometimes it was a trip to the cinema to see the latest animation. Other times it was a trip to the park. One time, he'd seen an advertisement for an indoor ice ring in Leeds, and had pleaded to be taken. John had spent most of his time clutching at the metal barrier that ran around it while Anna held Olly's hand and skated with him gracefully. It was rather embarrassing to be shown up by a child, and Anna, after checking him over to make sure that he was all right, had laughed herself silly when his one attempt at skating had left him sprawled out on the ice. Rather shamefully, he had sulked for the rest of the day, but that night in bed he had apologised for his behaviour, and Anna had forgiven him first with a salve on the worst of his bruising (he could have broken something, he told the Crawleys afterwards; Anna had rolled her eyes and called him her brave little soldier), and then with her body as she eased herself on top of him and made love to him slowly, mindful of his aches and pains.

Realising that he was getting rather off track, John cleared his throat and said, "One minute, mate. Ella, will you be a good princess for Daddy and sit right here for me?"

Her answer was a bop of the nose with her magic wand. He took that as the affirmative.

John turned his attention back to his oldest son.

"You wear that better than I ever did, mate," he commented, reaching out to ruffle his thick blonde hair. "Very handsome. If little Izzie could see you now, eh?"

Olly blushed scarlet, but seemed more interested in the first half of his sentence. "You dressed up as a vampire once too?"

"I did," he confirmed. "Count Dracula himself. Mummy thought I was very handsome, but I think you'll sway her into thinking that you're the most handsome vampire in the world."

"When did you dress up?"

"It was years ago now. Actually, that outfit holds a very special place in my heart. I was wearing it when Mummy told me that you were coming along." Which wasn't strictly the truth, but it was close enough and all their boy would ever need to know.

Olly's eyes glowed. "Really?"

"Really. Now, why don't I help straighten your cape?"

He set about bundling Oliver into the outfit properly, keeping an eye on the other three children as he did so. For once it was an easy feat; Ella seemed content to wave her wand and sing every song from _Frozen_ , while the twins squabbled over who should fetch Sooty back (no one, he told them firmly). When he'd got his eldest son assembled, he pulled back.

"All right, mate," he said. "Can you sit on the bed and be a good lad while I get these little monsters ready? Mummy wants to be surprised by you all."

Oliver nodded solemnly and settled himself on the edge of the bed. He'd brought his book with him—the first in the _Harry Potter_ series—and now he buried his head in it.

Satisfied that he was occupied, John turned to his other boys.

"Right," he said. "Let's get you dressed."

Liam and Jack looked up at him, cracking identical smiles that promised mischief. They were the spitting image of him, everyone said it, from the dark shocks of hair to the hazel eyes that were more green than brown in some lights. Sometimes it overwhelmed him, that he was looking at two identical copies of two little boys who so strongly resembled him, that he had had a hand in making them. In making all of his children, so perfect in every way.

"Who's going first?" he asked. "Jack?"

Jack—officially John, at Anna's insistence and his initial horror—clambered to his feet.

"Not fair!" Liam whined. Twelve minutes older and twice as boisterous, he pouted up at his father. "Me first, Daddy!"

"No, wait your turn," John told him. "You went first yesterday when Mummy got you ready for the Halloween party at school."

"That was yesterday!"

"If you don't do as you're told then we'll leave you with Mrs. Hughes along with Lily," he warned. "Then you would miss out on all the chocolate and that wouldn't be very fun for you, would it?"

Liam scowled sulkily, but thankfully did not argue further. Clearly the pull of chocolate was irresistible.

Which was a blessing, because even alone the twins were a handful. Jack wriggled and fussed all the way through his dressing, a pumpkin suit not very dissimilar to the one that Robert had worn all those years ago. Anna claimed that it was the cutest thing she had ever seen and had refused to listen to any reason as she'd added them to their shopping trolley a few weeks ago. Sometimes he had to question her taste.

" _Don't you talk to me about taste, John Bates,"_ she'd said grumpily. _"You were the one who wore that monstrosity of a Christmas jumper last year. The placement of those baubles was the most unfortunate thing I'd ever seen. I think it scarred everyone for life."_

" _You told me you liked it, that you thought it was sexy."_

" _What else could I say, with the way that everyone was mocking you?"_

" _You practically ripped it off when we got to the bedroom. You told me that it had been turning you on like nothing else all evening."_

" _I was only saying it to assuage your bruised ego. I couldn't have you going to bed pouting like a child. I ripped it off as quick as I could just to get rid of the hideous thing. You turned me on_ _ **after**_ _that."_

They'd been interrupted by the disgruntled clearing of a throat, turning to find an old lady standing behind them.

" _You're blocking the way,"_ she'd told them in a voice that left John in no doubt that she had overheard every word that they'd exchanged. Blushing, Anna had pushed their trolley to the side to let her pass, and then picked up the suits.

" _That's the end of that,"_ she'd declared.

" _Fine,"_ John had muttered. _"But that's the last time I try and be festive at Christmas."_

He'd sulked a little during the day, his feelings hurt that she could betray him in that way.

" _What's wrong with Daddy?"_ Oliver had asked, eyes bright with curiosity.

" _Nothing to trouble you with,"_ Anna had told him. _"He's just being a grumpy bear."_

But at night he'd crumbled almost embarrassingly quickly when she'd emerged from the bathroom wearing that very same jumper and nothing else underneath. And he'd had to admit: she'd worn it much better than he had.

Realising that he was getting a little too lost in his thoughts for his own good, John quickly returned his attention to his children. Jack was dressed in his little suit, and Liam looked as if he might combust with impatience if he didn't get his turn soon.

"Daddy!" he said. "Me now!"

"No, me!" Ella piped up mid-song. "You do my hair, Daddy! Like Elsa!"

John winced. There was no feasible way that he would be able to do a decent job. He could just about manage a passable ponytail if his limited knowledge was called upon, but Anna was the hairstyling whizz. She could do anything in a matter of minutes, never failing to make it perfect.

"I think Mummy will have to do that, El," he said as he helped Liam into his suit. Unless you want that Anna hair again. I might be able to give that a go, but I wouldn't promise anything…"

"O-nna," Ella corrected him. "You said it wong. And Elsa can't have Anna hair!"

"I'm sorry. I'm not an expert like you, am I?"

Ella beamed at him. "We watch it again tomowwow?"

"If you want, darling." Soon enough he'd be able to recite the whole film to her.

But that smile made it more than worth it. "Will Mummy do my hair?"

"When she's finished feeding Lily, yes. She won't be long. Can you be a good girl and sit there for a little bit longer?"

Ella nodded; she was a daddy's girl through and through, even John couldn't deny that. Relieved, he turned his full attention back to Liam.

"How's everything going?"

Anna had arrived. She held their plump little Lily in her arms. Their baby waved her little limbs wildly and offered the room a wide, toothless grin. John stepped back from his handiwork as Oliver shut his book and stood.

"What do you think?" their son asked.

"You all look so sweet," she cooed, beaming at them all. "Look at you! What a handsome vampire you are, Oliver. You give your daddy a run for his money, I have to say."

"What did I tell you?" said John. "Olly, you'll be a heartbreaker yet."

Their boy flushed scarlet, and Anna giggled.

"Stop embarrassing him," she said, then added, "But he's right. You're my favourite vampire. You've knocked Gary Oldman off the top spot."

"Oh great, so I still wasn't competing with Gary Oldman?" John complained good-naturedly. "And now I'm _third_? We might have to have words."

"You're top in other things," she said breezily, looking to the twins. "And you two are just about the cutest pumpkins that I've ever seen in my life!"

"I still think they should have been little gremlins."

"Take no notice of your daddy. Will you come and give me a kiss?"

John took it upon himself to sweep Lily out of her mother's arms, nuzzling against her round cheek as she squealed and kicked out her feet.

"I thought you said she was sleepy?" he teased as he showered her face in kisses.

"Well, apparently she wanted to know what all the fuss was about in here," Anna replied as she crouched down to receive a whirlwind of flailing limbs as Liam and Jack launched themselves into her arms. The force almost knocked her backwards, and she giggled.

"Careful," John warned them, but they took little notice as they fulfilled her request and showered her in boisterous kisses.

"Mummy, look at me!" said Ella, never one to lie low for long; surrounded by three boys, she had learned to shout to get herself heard.

"You're a perfect princess," said Anna. "You put all the Disney princesses to shame."

Beaming, Ella said, "Do my hair, Mummy. Daddy can't."

"All right, love. Come with me now and we'll get it sorted."

Ella didn't need telling again, bounding out of the room. Exchanging an amused glance with him, Anna kissed each of the boys and followed their daughter.

* * *

An hour later, they were ready to go. Anna pushed the pram, where Lily was tightly snug, baby paraphernalia swinging from the handles. Olly walked beside her, cape swishing, clutching at Ella's hand like he'd been instructed. John followed behind with a twin at each side.

Mrs. Hughes' bungalow was a five minute walk away. The sensor light triggered their approach, and a second later the woman herself appeared at the door.

"It's a wee bit chilly, isn't it?" she said in greeting.

"The kids aren't feeling it," said John, eyeing the way that each of them bounced along happily. Anna had a bag stuffed full with their coats just in case they got cold on the way round, but it seemed the prospect of treats was keeping them warm.

"Lily's sleeping now, so you might have an easy evening," said Anna as she reared the pram onto its back wheels so she could get it up over the threshold. "But she is teething at the minute, so you might be in for a tough time if she wakes up."

"I'm sure we'll muddle by." Mrs. Hughes' eyes widened as she took in the bag. "Goodness, you look like you're leaving her here for a week, never mind a couple of hours."

"Better to be prepared," Anna said cheerfully. "Thank you so much for doing this, Mrs. Hughes. I really appreciate it."

"Think nothing of it, dear. Couldn't have you missing out on taking your children trick-or-treating for the first time, could we? Speaking of trick-or-treating, I have something for you, lovelies."

At this, the children's eyes lit up.

"I'm a pwincess," said Ella. "Olly said that wasn't scarewy, but I want to look pwetty, not like an ugly monster."

"You look very pretty," Mrs. Hughes assured her as she handed them each a bag filled to bursting with a variety of different sweets and mini chocolate bars.

"You didn't need to go to so much trouble," said Anna as she unhooked the bag of coats. "You're the one doing us the favour."

"Nonsense. I have to treat the bairns. They're like my own family."

Mrs. Hughes often offered to look after the children on a Saturday night so that he and Anna could spend some much coveted time alone. Anna didn't like to feel as if she was taking advantage of the older woman, but she constantly reassured them that it was one of the highlights of her calendar, and his wife eventually wavered as the enticing pull of having quality time with him won out.

They said goodbye with the promise that they would pick Lily up soon. Now that Anna had her hands free, she was able to take hold of Ella and Jack. John held onto the bag of coats and Liam, while Oliver walked in front, holding the bucket intended for their sweets.

It promised to be a fun evening.

* * *

It proved to be a successful evening for the children.

As they entered the cul-de-sac on their return journey, they were gleeful with their bounty.

"Look, look!" said Liam for the umpteenth time, his eyes gleaming.

"Can we eat it when we get back?" asked Jack.

"Not all of it," said Anna. "One piece."

"Pwincesses eat as much as they want," pouted Ella.

"Mummies still have the final word," John reminded her.

They hadn't taken the kids too far, just on the network of the neighbouring streets, but almost everyone had been in the Halloween spirit, showering them with sweets and cooing over how adorable they looked in their costumes. The twins were a particular hit (Anna had smirked at him triumphantly), and Ella told everyone she met that she was Elsa from _Frozen_ because she didn't like any of the monsters or witches. Anna and John had bundled them into their coats on the way back, wary of the dip in temperature, and John fished the key from his pocket now.

"Here," he said. "Take them inside. You look frozen."

"Not too loud," Anna giggled, glancing in the direction of the children, who had run up the driveway to the front door. "Or Ella will force you to put it on."

John grimaced. "Point taken. Now, go on, get. I'll fetch Lily. I won't be long."

"I do love you, Mr. Bates," she murmured.

He grinned, splaying his hands low on her back as she turned towards him. "So I should hope."

"You really are rather wonderful sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" he teased.

She rolled her eyes, leaning up to kiss him languidly. He tightened his hold on her hips, guiding her lower half into contact with his own. A prelude of what would hopefully follow in the evening.

"Mummy, Daddy!" Oliver yelled impatiently.

They broke apart, chuckling, and John pressed a final staccato kiss to her mouth before releasing her.

"Go," he said.

"I'll get them in the bath to warm them through."

John nodded, then turned and trudged back towards Mrs. Hughes' residence. She opened the door a couple of minutes after he knocked.

"Ah, John," she said.

"How has she been, Mrs. Hughes?" he asked as she waved him inside out of the cold.

"Like an angel until about ten minutes ago. I checked her nappy but she didn't need changing, and she wouldn't take the milk from the bottle, so I'm not sure if she's hungry or just in pain with her teeth."

"We'd better get you home and see then, hadn't we?" John said to Lily, who was bright red in the face and screaming. "Oh, darling, please don't cry. Daddy is here."

This clearly didn't make any difference to his little daughter, and she continued to scream as John bundled her into the pram, collected all of the baby gear that Anna had meticulously packed, and bid goodbye to Mrs. Hughes. She cried all the way back to their house and didn't let up her sobbing even when she was back in familiar surroundings.

"Goodness," said Anna, appearing at the top of the stairs. "What on earth is the matter?"

"I think she might be hungry yet again," John explained, picking her up. She kicked her legs furiously. "She wouldn't take the formula."

"Give her here," said Anna. "I'll sort her. Can you take over bath duty?"

"Of course."

"Ella's had hers, and the twins have just got in. Olly's reading in his room while he waits his turn."

"Right."

They exchanged Lily, and Anna retreated to the quiet of their bedroom to see if she would take to eating, while John made a beeline for the bathroom. Thankfully, Liam and Jack hadn't caused any chaos in their mother's brief absence, and John helped them to bath, towelling them off in turn and then encouraging them to change into their pyjamas while he cleaned the bath and filled it with fresh water for Oliver. When that was done, he called for his eldest.

"You going to be all right, mate?" he asked as he came in.

"Daddy, I'm _seven_ ," Oliver reminded him. I don't need help in the bath anymore."

"I know. You're growing up too fast for us, that's all," said John, ruffling his blond hair. "It'll be story time for Ella and the twins when you're done."

"Can I stay up late tonight?"

"I don't think so."

"But it's Halloween!"

"And you're still only seven," he teased. "Half an hour later, and that's my final offer."

Oliver contemplated it. "Deal," he said at last, quite the little businessman, holding out his hand to shake.

"Good lad," said John, giving that hand a firm shake. "We'll see you in the twins' room."

Anna met him there ten minutes later, already changed into her night things.

"Lily's asleep," she announced. "It _was_ hunger that was making her cry. She's nodded right off. Like someone else I know after a good feed."

"Charming."

Anna giggled, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. "Where's Olly?"

"Just finishing up in the bath. He'll be along soon."

"And what are these monkeys still doing out of bed?"

"Daddy said we could have an…an…" Jack scrunched up his brow, trying to find the word.

"An interactive story," said John.

Anna raised an eyebrow. "An interactive story, eh? And when has that ever been a good thing before bed?"

"They asked for one."

"And you couldn't say no?"

John rubbed the back of his beck sheepishly as his wife rolled her eyes affectionately.

"Daddy said that I can be a pwincess," said Ella brightly.

"And what about you?" she asked the twins.

"Scary monsters," said Liam proudly. "We guard the prisoner!"

"Me," John supplied with a smirk. "I thought a warrior princess might save me."

"Don't push your luck," said Anna, but she was smiling slightly. John slipped his arm around her waist as she took a seat beside him.

Less than a minute later, Oliver pushed into the room.

"And here's our very own Count Dracula," John announced cheerfully, "keeping me captive in my tower."

Oliver quickly caught on, baring his teeth and pretending to growl. It had always been a favourite time for the Bates children. John had not been able to do all the things that a father should be able to do with his children, like chase them around the garden or engage in a bit of roughhousing, due to his knee, shattered in the Balkan War, and so he had tried to make it up to them in other ways. He didn't think he was particularly good at creating new worlds and adventures, but the children revelled in them, and they were what mattered. It was time for them to bond as a family, precious time that both he and Anna cherished dearly. Other times he would simply read to them out of a book, but this was the children's favourite method of storytelling. It was just a good thing that each of them had developed a taste for literature, even the rambunctious twins.

Running to the bed, Oliver proclaimed, "You're not going anywhere, Daddy! You'll never be free!"

"With your two minions, I believe it," said John as the twins roamed the floor in front of the bed like they were on guard duty at Buckingham Palace.

"Maybe there's someone who will brave it," said Anna. "What do you think, Princess Ella?"

"Yes!" she squealed.

And with that, the narrative unfolded. Reclining on the bed, John conjured up the story of the cursed prince who had fallen into the clutches of the evil vampire, trapped in the room forever. Then the fearless princesses entered, determined to save him from his helpless fate, fighting harsh weather and braving many obstacles to reach the vampire's lair.

"The vampire's henchmen set upon them at once," said John, and on cue the twins let out a chorus of howls and launched themselves at their mother and sister. Ella promptly fell onto her bottom, and Anna swept Liam up into her arms.

"Now what are you going to do?" she growled playfully.

"Jack!" Liam cried.

At his twin's shout, Jack wrapped his arms around Anna's legs. This was a mistake; Ella had been left open to scurry towards the bed with encouragement from John. Oliver stepped neatly into her path.

"And what do you think you're doing?" he said in his best booming voice.

"Rescuing Daddy!" Ella shouted.

"I don't think so," Olly jeered.

"Luckily, Princess Ella was no ordinary princess," said John. "She had powerful magic at her disposal, and she could use it in the ultimate duel with the evil vampire."

At his words, his daughter's eyes lit up. The magic wand that she had taken to carrying everywhere had been left on the bed earlier, and she snatched it up now, prodding her brother square in the chest.

"I'm fweezing you!" she yelled, making whooshing noises to emphasise her words.

"Ice doesn't bother a vampire!" said Olly triumphantly. "We're already dead and cold!"

"No!" said Ella. "You die now!"

"I don't!"

"Maybe you have a fire power that will vanquish the evil vampire," said John, eager to prevent a fight from breaking out.

"Okay," said Ella, smacking her brother once more. Reluctantly, he fell to the floor and died an exaggerated death. Gleefully, Ella leapt onto the bed, landing heavily against John's chest and almost winding him.

"Wake up, Daddy!" she screeched.

Wincing, he replied, "You have to wake me with a kiss."

Gently, Ella lowered her mouth to his cheek and gave him a soft kiss. John pretended to rouse, stretching and yawning widely.

"And who is my saviour?" he asked.

"Pwincess Ella," she answered.

"Well, Princess Ella, thank you for rescuing me," he said. "I grant you a new pony and my kingdom."

"And what about me?" said Anna, disentangling herself from the twins' grip.

"How about my hand in marriage?" he asked.

"We'll see about that," she said, moving over to him. Ella wriggled away from him to give Anna room to approach.

Dipping her head, Anna whispered in his ear, "Did any of the female vampires at Count Dracula's disposal seduce you?"

"Well, there are some very beautiful women…" he teased, raising an eyebrow.

She slapped his chest, and he caught her around the waist, pulling her to him. She yelped.

"None is more beautiful than you," he whispered, and with a gracious smile, she rewarded him with a kiss.

"Mummy! Daddy!"

They broke apart to find Olly staring at them, nose wrinkled.

"You're supposed to be telling a story," he accused.

"We've reached the end now," said John. "The prince marries Princess Anna, Princess Ella continued to fight evil forces with her magical powers, and they all live happily ever after."

Anna pushed herself into a sitting position, sending him a fond grin. John returned it, his heart swelling with love. Yes, they really had lived happily ever after.

* * *

Peace at last.

John heaved an exhausted sigh, resting his head against the back of the settee. All of the children had been packed off to bed (not without a major sulk from Oliver, who felt that the world was most unjust when he had been taken to bed the minute that the extra half hour John had promised him was up), and now he and Anna finally had some free time.

They had decided to spend it in the same way that they had spent every Halloween since having children, curled up in front of the television with a terrible horror flick on the box. John's idea of heaven. He got to spend a glorious ninety minutes with his wife tucked under his arm, their attention required nowhere else. Unless Lily woke. Which, God willing, she wouldn't—she had been sleeping through the night for months now, and rarely stirred. A heavy sleeper, just like her mummy, John teased. Occasionally, they would be interrupted by the odd older trick-or-treater who Anna would deal with with a smile, but for the most part they were undisturbed.

Anna had kissed him and tasked him with finding something to view a few minutes ago, wanting something to eat while they were watching. He flicked idly through the onscreen programme guide, but nothing was catching his interest.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all," he commented to Sooty.

The cat was curled up in a ball on the seat beside him, snoozing contentedly. He had been there when they'd left, and seemed entirely too comfortable.

"I hope you do know that you're going to have to move soon," he said. "This is Anna's place. Go find another one."

Sooty blinked sleepily.

"I mean it. Remember last week when Olly bought that miniature warlock's get up when he was out with Granny Smith specifically for the task of squashing you into it? I rescued you then, mate, when you had four little horrors trying to terrorise you into a kitty costume. I told you then that you owed me big-time. Well, I think the time has come to repay that favour. This is an adults-only party. Go find somewhere else to sleep."

Sooty's response was to yawn widely and lower his head back to his paws, closing his eyes once more.

"What's an adults-only party? I hope you're not planning on getting lucky."

Anna had appeared in the doorway, juggling a bowl of popcorn and two mugs of tea. Quite how she had managed that feat John couldn't fathom, but he reached up and plucked one of the teas from her hands and placed it on the coffee table at his side. Anna sighed as she squeezed herself in next to him, taking care not to squash Sooty, who was stubbornly refusing to move despite John's heartfelt plea. She thrust the popcorn at his chest as she grabbed the throw from the back of the sofa and snuggled beneath it. He lifted his arm so that she could rest her head against his chest, and their legs tangled together on the pouffe as she sighed and relaxed.

"What have you chosen?" she asked.

"There's a never-ending list of horror films here," he said. "And they all sound awful."

"This was your idea. You can't complain about the quality now."

"Of course I can. I do this because I like to hold you, not for the shoddy writing."

Anna huffed, leaning forward to click the remote. "Look, we're going with this one. End of."

They settled into their usual pattern as the film began. Every so often Anna would reach out to alternate between grabbing a handful of popcorn and taking a sip of tea, flinching and whimpering whenever something gory occurred. John rolled his eyes, but smirked as she burrowed closer, hiding her face against him. The scent of her hair wafted into his nose, and he inhaled deeply, relishing her weight and heat. The triumph was soured slightly by Sooty's decision to clamber into the small gap between Anna's stomach and his thigh, obviously tired of her giving her full attention to someone else.

"This is awful," she said, voice muffled against his shirt.

"I know," he agreed. "Who the hell got paid to write this drivel?"

She smacked her palm against his chest. "I don't mean that. I mean it's disgusting, all that blood and guts—"

"That's part and parcel of the genre," he said. "But I tell you what I do think is ridiculous. I mean, the whole thing is ridiculous, but how stupid must you be to want to have sex in a place like that?"

"Trust you to be preoccupied with the sex."

"What? It's a valid question." A scream pierced the air, followed by a spray of blood. "There you go, a gruesome end in the middle of all the shagging. There's no logic to it."

"You're honestly looking for logic in a film where a mad axeman is running riot in the woods decapitating everyone in sight, and a group of teenagers are willingly staying put?"

"Well, come on, who in the right frame of mind would stay put if they something like that was going on…? And what kind of idiot gets so horny in the middle of a place like that that they can't wait to go at it? How can anything about that situation be a turn on?"

"Oh, be quiet, Mr. Bates."

"How are you going to make me?" he challenged. "I have the right to voice my opinion –"

Anna let out an exasperated sigh before leaning in to close the gap between them. She fumbled for the mute button on the television as she kissed him, and he moved his hand to the side of her neck, keeping her in place against him. When they eventually parted, Anna grinned.

"There," she proclaimed. "I shut you up."

"Suddenly I've lost interest in the film," he said hoarsely.

"I thought you wouldn't get turned on while that mad axeman was running riot?"

"I'm not watching the film," he pointed out. "And none of it's real anyway."

"You've changed your tune quick."

"I find that it happens all too frequently when I'm with you, Mrs. Bates." He nuzzled against her, pecking at her mouth until she softened with a little breath, snaking her arms around his shoulders to stroke her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. He closed his eyes, losing himself in the moment, until he felt a razor sharp pain pierce his thigh. He almost bit Anna's lip in his surprise, pulling back sharply.

"Bloody hell!" he said, rubbing his thigh. "Sooty!"

Sooty fixed him with a glowering stare, his claws still extended.

"I thought we were past this," John muttered darkly. "We agreed, I'm allowed to show Anna affection if I keep your belly filled."

"He doesn't approve of being squashed," said Anna. "And I don't think he approves of witnessing your so-called affection."

"Then let's take this upstairs," he murmured. "The cat can keep his bloody sofa then."

"Language," Anna scolded, but she relented at last. "All right. As long as there isn't a mad axeman lurking about, waiting for his chance to strike."

* * *

Panting, Anna tucked herself under his chin, pressing a kiss to his throat. John wound his arms tight around her, running his fingers through her dishevelled hair as he tried to calm the thundering of his heart. Anna made a purring sound of satisfaction at his repetitive motions, pulling back slightly so that she could see his face. The kiss that they exchanged was slow and sweet, a perfect counterpoint to the passion that they had shared moments earlier. When she pulled away, she pressed her lips to his forehead, and he relished the sensation of her lips so soft and gentle on his skin.

"I love you," she breathed into the sweaty hair at his temple.

"Love you too," he murmured, ringing his arms around her waist and coaxing her to roll onto her side. She sighed in contentment, snuggling back into his embrace, and he feathered several kisses against her neck as he settled down. His limbs felt heavy in the aftermath of their passion, and he already felt drowsy. Nowadays it never took him long to drift off to sleep, so exhausted by his everyday life. How different it was to the past.

It seemed that Anna had much the same issue. Her breathing had already started to deepen, and he knew that she was on the verge of sleep herself. That wouldn't do. They needed to be dressed in the event that their children needed them. But it was so damned hard. If there was one thing he missed about his life pre-children, it was the way that he had been able to hold Anna naked in his arms for the whole night, to feel her nude, silky skin rubbing all along the length of him, sharing body heat that made him wilt like a languid cat in the aftermath, the way that he could wake cupping a breast, and make slow, sleepy love to her with just a few minor adjustments.

He would enjoy the sensation for a few minutes more. Dropping a final kiss onto her shoulder, he buried his head in the crook of her neck, breathing in the musky scent of her skin. She gave a drowsy little murmur, pressing back against him, obviously trying to burrow as far into his skin as nature allowed. She felt amazing, tucked so perfectly against him, and he closed his eyes. He drifted to the musical sounds of her perfect breathing. He would move in a moment.

* * *

An insistent prod against his back woke him.

John blinked sleepily. His vision was filled with Anna's silky tresses, and it took several moments to come back to himself. He was lying curled up around his wife, in the darkness of their room, the heat of lovemaking cooled from his skin.

And someone was trying to get his attention.

He rolled over, reluctantly leaving the warmth of Anna's skin to peer blearily into the darkness. He could make out a shape beside the bed.

"Oliver," he said, his voice scratchy with ill-use. "How did you get in?"

"The door wasn't locked," he explained. "You said we only have to knock when the door is locked."

Bugger. In the heat of the moment, they had forgotten all about locking the door. They only ever locked it while they were making love, not wanting their children to burst in on them when they were in the throes of passion, unlocking it again once they had recovered enough to restore themselves. Obviously they'd been too tired to do that tonight, and now John cursed himself for his neglect. It had been years since they'd regularly slept naked beside each other, and now their son had walked in on them.

Beside him, Anna began to stir.

"What's wrong, John?" she muttered. "Come back here."

"Olly's here," he informed her.

"What?" She scrambled for the sheets at once, clutching them tight to her throat as she rolled over so that she too was facing John's side of the bed. "Oliver? What's the matter? Do you feel sick? I told you eating that chocolate before bed wasn't a good idea…"

Olly shook his head, fidgeting. "I don't feel sick, Mummy."

"Then what is it? Do you feel ill anywhere else?"

He shook his head, looking ashamed of himself. "No…I had a nightmare."

John felt Anna relax at once. "Darling, everyone has nightmares. What was it about?"

Olly had the grace to look ashamed. "I did something I shouldn't. Daddy told me I couldn't stay up late, so I sneaked back downstairs while you were watching the film because I'm a big boy and I wanted to see it too. But I didn't like it. And when I went back upstairs I dreamed that man was trying to cut my head off! I tried to run and he caught me, and…" He sniffed, wiping at his eyes.

Oh, bloody hell.

"How much did you see?" John asked urgently.

"Just the first bit," said Oliver. He looked haunted.

"You didn't see the boy and the girl in the cabin?"

No. Why?"

"Never mind." Thank God. The sex scene had been graphic as well as brutal. At least that had been avoided. Not to mention their own conversation about that particular subject…

"Really, John, what a question," Anna said reprovingly, clearly oblivious to his reasoning. "He obviously saw enough to frighten him."

Olly interrupted them, his voice small. "Can I get in with you? Just until I feel better?"

That put an end to the beginning of their bickering as they exchanged glances.

"Just…just wait a moment, mate," John said frantically, keeping the covers close to him.

"Why?"

"We um…" He cleared his throat. "Mummy and I need to get dressed first."

Olly's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

Anna cast him a helpless look as she began to speak, clearly casting around for any excuse she could think of. "Well, you see, love, when a mummy and a daddy love each other very much, they sometimes like to cuddle each other with no clothes on."

"But…but why? Why is it different from hugging with clothes on? Mummy, I don't understand."

"Mummy's right," said John. "It's what makes a mummy and daddy a mummy and daddy. When they love each other they want to show each other, and so that's why they cuddle naked."

Olly frowned. "Then…how are babies made? I thought that was how mummies and daddies showed that they loved each other?"

"You don't need to worry about any of that yet," John told him. "And it's never a bad thing that Mummy and Daddy love each other, you know."

Olly nodded solemnly. "I know. Amy Tanner's parents are getting a divorce. She was crying to the teacher yesterday because she said her mummy and daddy don't love each other anymore, and she can't live with them both at the same time. I wouldn't like that."

"You've nothing at all to worry about," Anna promised him. "Daddy and I will always love each other very, very much. Look at all the brothers and sisters you have. You wouldn't have Liam and Jack and Ella and Lily if we didn't."

This seemed to placate Olly, and he gave a shy little nod. John reached out and ruffled his hair.

"Go and stand outside the door for a minute," he said. "You can leave it ajar, but I promise no axeman is going to get you. We'll be ready in a flash and you can come in then."

Their son nodded, slowly backing away. They waited until he was stationed outside with his back to the door before they slid out of bed. John could hear the slight unevenness in Anna's breathing that indicated she was holding back a desire to laugh, and he had to swallow a snort himself. Really, it was comical. Mortifying, but comical. Their poor, dear boy.

They tugged their night things on as quickly as possible, and John padded over to the bedroom door while Anna slid back into bed.

"All right, mate, come on," he murmured, reaching out to take Olly's hand. Olly's small fingers squeezed tightly. He might like to think that he was too big to be fussed over now, but when his little mask slipped, John couldn't be happier. There was no feeling more magical than having his child's hand in his.

Anna patted the space beside her as Olly clambered up onto the bed. He immediately snuggled up against her, wrapping his arms around her neck. She dropped a kiss into his hair, one arm wrapping around his back while the other reached out to hold onto John's hand. He linked their fingers together as he rolled onto his side, pressing his front against Olly's back. They were effectively a little Bates sandwich.

"I hope the others don't wake up and want to join in," he murmured to Anna as Olly finally relaxed. "There will be no room to breathe, never mind move."

"What are you talking about?" Anna teased. "You'll be sleeping on the floor. They'll want a guard dog to protect them against the scary monsters."

"Charming," he remarked. "Is that all I'm good for nowadays? To sleep on the floor?"

"Of course not," Anna said, then giggled. "It wouldn't do your old bones much good, would it?"

John glowered at her playfully. "If Oliver wasn't here…"

Anna raised a challenging eyebrow. If Oliver wasn't snugged tight between them, he would show Anna exactly what he was good for.

But it couldn't be. He settled for reaching across his son to press a kiss to his wife's forehead, and her loving smile was more than enough of a consolation.

Silence fell over them. It didn't take Olly long to start snuffling, the tell-tale way of knowing that he was fast asleep. Anna's breathing had also deepened. John was content enough to lie there watching over them. His perfect, beautiful family, with the rest of his children sleeping just along the hall, dreaming of sweets and chocolate and all manner of goodies.

He hoped that there were many more happy Halloweens to come.

* * *

 **A/N:** I was traumatised and scarred for life after accidentally seeing a part of _Final Destination_ as a young child, so I avoid horror films like the plague, but when I was researching sex in horror I found that, _man_ , there are some seriously effed up movies out there.


End file.
